Scott's Run, West Virginia. Pursglove No. 5. Scene taken from main
highway shows typical hillside camp. The houses are multiple
dwellings, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. The Patch. One of the worst camps in
Scott's Run. The stream is an auxiliary branch that flows into Scott's
Run. The main valley of Scott's Run can be seen towards the right of
this picture. These houses were originally built as single bachelor
apartments; there are from six to eight separate housekeeping units in
the buildings. Many of them are now occupied by families living in one
room, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. The Patch. One of the worst camps in
Scott's Run. The stream is an auxiliary branch that flows into Scott's
Run can be seen towards the right of this picture. These houses were
originally built as single bachelor apartments; there are from six to
eight separate housekeeping units in the buildings. Many of them are
now occupied by families living in one room, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Jere, mine tipple. Mine bankrupt and
closed since December 1936. The camp of this mine is considered a
stranded community, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Troop Hill -- an abandoned coal camp on
Scott's Run, West Virginia, December 22, 1936. Mine closed early in
1936. Scene taken from main highway entering Scott's Run, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Chaplin Hill. This scene is typical of
many camps built near the mine. In the background can be seen several
of the government sanitary privies. These houses are multiple
dwellings which accommodate several families. It is one of the few
camps on Scott's Run which affords space for hogs and garden, 1936

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Chaplin Hill Mine Tipple. This mine as
bankrupt and closed during the summer of 1936. The company was
reorganized and began to operate under new management in November
1936, 1936

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Cassville, mine tipple. This mine is
operating and supplies work for three separate camps (Cassville, New
Hill, and the Patch). To the left of picture is shown one of the
government privies built by WPA workers in a sanitation campaign
organized to eliminate the old typical filthy mine camp toilets, March
1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Sessa Hill. The mine is a small locally
owned operation where conditions are generally bad, 1936

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Worked out coal mine near Pursglove mine
No. 4 camp. Scene taken from main highway. This scene is typical of a
dozen or more mines that have been closed and left to decay in the
community. Note trees killed by mine operations and mine cars left to
the elements, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Bertha Hill Camp. The mine in this camp
has been bankrupt and changed hands several times in the last two
years. In the summer of 1936 this camp was considered abandoned; in
December the mine, under new management, began to operate, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Outdoor privy. Scene taken from the main
highway. The stream is Scott's Run. This privy is typical of many
improvised outdoor toilets on Scott's Run. It is made from an old
automobile; the house at left is also improvised by the family who
occupy it. A stream of water flows past the privy into Scott's Run,
March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Miner returning from work at New Hill.
There are no mine wash houses in West Virginia. Miners change their
clothes and bathe in wash tub in their home and bring much of the mine
dirt with them, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Unemployed miners, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Unemployed men and women, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Unemployed miner, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Unemployed miner, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Miner Herb Venn, photographed as he dressed for a trip to Morgantown, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Mexican miner's child. This boy was digging coal
from mine refuse on the road side. The picture was taken December 23,
1936 on a cold day; Scott's Run was buried in snow. The child was
barefoot and seemed to be used to it. He was a quarter mile from his
home, 1936

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Children of employed miners at Miller Hill, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Pursglove No. 2. Scene taken from main
highway shows company store and typical hillside camp, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Pursglove Mines Nos. 4 and 5. Scene
taken from main highway shows typical hillside settlements. Houses
shown are for supervisory staff. Camp one of the best on Scott's Run,
March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Pursglove Mines Nos. 3 and 4. This is
the largest company of Scott's Run. Scene shows main Scott's Run
Highway and atmosphere loaded with coal dust and typical of Scott's
Run on any working day, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. Another view of Pursglove Mines Nos. 3 and 4, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. The Shack Community Center. Scene is
typical of crowded space. In center of valley the stream is Scott's
Run Creek. The Shack is a community center sponsored by a religious
organization, March 1937

Scott's Run, West Virginia. This building is a part of the abandoned
mine buildings of the stranded camp of Jere. It is the exterior of the
old fan house. The children are a part of a WPA nursery now
functioning in the camp, March 1937

14 comments:

I read and looked at this and then saw your final note about yesterday’s WB piece, Joe Darby and the cunning plan and was kind of putting two-and-two together about Poetry of Place and its alternatives. I love this and these people. The contrast between them and yesterday’s humans in my mind and my feelings about the two groups makes me feel uncharitable and inhuman, but unfortunately I think inhuman “comes with the territory” these days. Your four lines and the generous helping of Lewis Hine’s photos are all I require to site me at the moment. No Apps allowed (please). Curtis

This is why my schoolteacher grandfather headed to Detroit and slept in her parks for months trying to find work. Eventually Briggs was hiring and he sent for my mother and grandmother. Indeed the circle of boom and bust is unbroken.

We’re all refugees from something, even if we’ve stayed in one place. The place I’ve lived all my life (so far) is Planet Earth. It’s home, a “place” made up of places. It’s a feeling. When the planet hurts, I hurt. Literally.

Being historical creatures we'd do well to stay on friendly terms with past but we keep the distance (whether by sentimentality or indifference, it hardly matters). A terrible and pervasive myth, that we're done with history.

And here we are coming close to our own grand goodbyes.

All those different races, the common glue being poverty. People and landscapes too worn out.

“Glad to meet you,” says the past. Here in the present, there are likely many billions of humans in situations equally or more painful, more degrading than the one so powerfully presented here. The gap is growing, nationally and globally.

I disagree, vazambam. The rich love poverty. It provides a “ready to go” work pool. It keeps the profits high and growing. Without poverty there would be no “rich”.

“What have I done to deserve this?”

“I can't remember where, when, and why I let someone open this account in my name.

(Wanda Szymborska – Nothing’s a Gift)

I had a spiritual teacher long ago who said “we pick our parents and our lives before we are conceived.” I didn’t buy it then or now. I’ll go with WS’s theory.

Take a closer look at my little "poem" and you'll see it says exactly what you say, to wit: "The rich love poverty. It provides a “ready to go” work pool. It keeps the profits high and growing. Without poverty there would be no “rich”."--

Hine's commitment to social justice caused his work to be neglected in his later years. The gods of popularity have always been thoughtless and cruel. The Museum of Modern Art turned down his offer to donate his photographic archive. Instead it went to Eastman House.

I learned photography from an old Sears kit in grade school--we turned our bomb shelter into a dark room, my sister and I, and we began with that and moved up.But I still feel that those old b and w pics are so much more interesting. Color, for all it's glamor, never seems quite right. I don't quite like to admit it, but when I take a pic now, I tend to frame a more polished image than is out there. When I do (or rather did) black and white, I think more about the interior quality of the image.

I agree, Nin, color photography has a quality of glamor that is often off the beam. People, their personalities and emotions seem to come through more powerfully in black and white. Certain landscapes, like the cold mist, the freezing clouds seem more penetrating in black and white. I wonder if removing color from digital fotos would restore some of the special qualities of black and white? Will have to experiment with it. I think maybe messing with and mastering all those F-stops and ASA's may have forced a certain concentration upon photographers that sometimes produced extraordinary results.